


Meetings

by QueenHeadphones



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: F/F, Hurloane Week 2017, Precanon to PTTM, hurloaneweek, i had to do something for these nerds that ruined my life, some ocs as well - Freeform, take a shot every time i use weird paragraph spacing, take a shot every time i wrote 'thought' or 'mused', wildly WILDLY un-beta'ed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 06:18:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12699096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenHeadphones/pseuds/QueenHeadphones
Summary: Sloane makes an offer. Hurley makes a decision. Precanon to PTTM.





	Meetings

Sloane was missing something.

 

She had the battlewagon. She had the core-all thanks to the local dealer, not that they were yet aware of it. She just got the most  _ badass  _ getup for the race this weekend-a silky black cape that sent chills throughout her every time that she touched it, and a raven’s mask with real raven feathers that she was so proud of that she could burst **.** She had the skills needed to drive it-all of the medals and trophies hanging on her wall proved that, despite the giant learning curve that came from not having a second rider. She had almost everything that she needed for the race this weekend, save for one thing.

  
  


Standing quietly in the alleyway, watching the parade go by, she waited patiently for an opening. Di Mane, one of Goldcliff’s most famous designers, was touring the country to show off her designs, and had stopped by as a part of her tour. There was to be a big procession of all her stuff leading to the museum, where she would give a grand speech to start the grand opening. Even better, hundreds of shopkeepers had set up near the event, making the already crowded streets even more packed with people on top of the chaos. The whole thing ran through the part of town with the least amount of visibility, but throwing in the parade, the music, and the cheering crowds, it held the perfect opportunity. _I should be okay_ , she mused as she slid on her mask, tightened the strings on her cape, and took one last breath, _long as I can get past the other cops_.

  
  


And cops there were by the boatload. If they weren’t darting between the crowd and the floats, making sure that people didn’t get too close, or thundering by on ginormous horses, they were surrounding Di’s personal cart, with the woman herself on it, waving and beaming at the crowd, draped in her most expensive creations-and the best of Goldcliff’s police that money could buy.

It was almost comedic how airtight they kept the perimeter around the float. There were two officers on horseback at least ten feet away from the front of the float, and two in the back. In between  _ that _ were four officers bordering the float itself. Sloane recognized them from her previous run ins-the half elf in the front was formal, efficient, and brutal with evocation. Just looking at him made the burn scars that knotted her arm ache. The short, stubby one with the sleepy face was damn good with abjuration-Sloane put a hell of an effort in getting out of one of her last traps. The large reptile flanking the far left didn’t know anything as far as Sloane, but was dangerous enough in combat-Sloane saw them using styles that  _ she  _ didn’t recognize.

 

And all the way in the back was the halfling.

 

If Sloane had to describe her, she would describe her as  _ compact _ -in word, movement, and action. It wasn’t just her short stature, or the clipped, proper way that she spoke to both civilians and criminals, or the corkscrew curls that were  _ close  _ to her head, just threatening to burst out from underneath her cap. If Sloane was pressed, she might say that it was in how she carried herself. In every run-in with this cop that Sloane could recall, no matter what trick she pulled, she’d always find the cop not too far behind her.

 

Sloane remembered this cop as unflappable, even in the heat of the moment- _Dogged as hell, too,_ she recalled, _even with the way that she gives chase_. This parade wasn’t Sloane’s first run in with the halfling cop-they had clashed before over stolen valuables and magic items. Sloane would do everything to have the cop lose her trail-run through rushing water, navigate through crowded alleys, even hide in an abandoned factory at one point, but the halfling had swam through the river, bowled through the alley, and burst into the factory. She’d chalk it up to some overzealous newbie trying to get into some higher-up’s good graces, or a cadet bluffing themselves up into victory, or even just stupidity, but this felt different. Nobody was that overzealous, that self-absorbed, _or_ that stupid. And every time that she’d meet with the cop-or more like, every time that she would corner her, she’d still be completely poised and precise, in speech, manner, and fighting style. The way that she moved in those few moments that they were alone, however, felt a little less rigid, less controlled, less _compact._ _If I didn’t know any better_ , Sloane mused, _I’d think she was enjoying herself._

  
  


A loud bang drew Sloane from her thoughts as a firecracker shell burst at the crowd’s feet, and pulling a flinch from Sloane. Delighted shrieks emanated from the audience as a prankster in a suit covered in firecrackers on the float in front of them laughed and beamed and waved, and despite her mission here, she felt a cloud foul over her good mood.  _ Gaudy _ , she spat.  _ On any other day, that’d be considered dangerous, but pay enough money here and it’s a party trick. _ Glowering, she sank her hand into the pocket and felt for her prop.

  
  


The trinket was barely worth mentioning-just a shell tied together with some leather, and a small pearl dangling from it. She had found it on some trader’s cart a few years back, and she figured that it wasn’t valuable enough to warrant him missing it much. The important thing was that it  _ looked  _ glossy and expensive, though. Sloane understood when everyone got upset when she took something that  _ did  _ something-block magic, or open doors, or give you good luck, but she found it funny the way that people put value on things that sparkled, glittered or just looked nice, then blamed her for stealing them.  _ If people didn’t say they were valuable _ , she mused _ , then I wouldn’t be stealing them in the first place. _ She looked cautiously around the crowd, scanning for someone who would seemed like they would draw the most attention. Picking out a nervous looking redheaded girl, she walked past her quickly, brushing past her noticeably.

  
  


She saw the raven’s mask and the necklace dangling from Sloane’s hand before she saw Sloane. With a simple cry of _“Thief!”_ , the crowd that she was in was roiling-some of them trying to get away, some of them trying to get a closer look, some of them trying to grab her. _Good thing I don’t need to deal with crowds today,_ she thought idly. She touched the ring on her finger and jumped, sending her springing through the air and onto the rooftop. Even from up there, she could still hear the commotion down below her-people screaming and shouting, officers trying to control the crowd-and the orders of a commanding officer deploying a small squadron.

 

And I haven’t even really  _ done  _ anything this time, Sloane thought. She could barely imagine the chaos that would unfold if she  _ did. _

 

She could hear the squadron storming down the alleys, two on both sides of the building that she had landed on. She was well aware of the drill by now-they usually split off with the elf accompanying the conjurer, and the lizard going with the halfling. The magic user in the group would know some combat, and the fighter would have one or two magic objects on them, in the event that they were separated, but Sloane knew she could count on them not shifting roles. Choosing to attack on a parade day was a benefit as well-the streets were stuffed with attendees and sellers, but the police probably have most of the area behind me already cleared out. The area around her-full of small alleyways and tight turns-would be her best bet. _ I just need to know how far behind the cops are,  _ she thought. Without stopping, she cast a downward glance at them.

 

**_Fuck_ ** , she spat as she watched the baby face caster and the giant lizard head directly in front of her, and the elf dart off behind her far left, the halfling trailing behind.  _ On the one hand, _ she thought gleefully,  _ it’s kind of flattering that they made a new formation for me _ . The lizard was built like a tank, and Sloane knew that they were there to cover the abjurer when she casted.  _ So interrupting her concentration’s out _ . The elf wasn’t fast or strong, but he had a hell of an aim-her arm was testament enough to that. And even if the elf didn’t hit her, he’d certainly drive her into the abjurer’s trap. Then there was the matter of the halfling.  _ Even if she weren’t part of the plan, she’s still good enough to take me in combat and cover the elf. _ It was all that Sloane could do to not just tilt her head to the sky and groan her frustration. In a matter of seconds, the entire squad had blown through her original plan-and her back ups-just by shifting positions.

 

Pushing past the panic that was rising through her, Sloane slowly sat down and reached into her pocket. Pushing past the magic bric-a-brac that she had packed, she brought up three smooth stones, midnight blue in color. She always did love how silent they made her as soon as she touched them-she couldn’t even hear the sound of her breathing, or the rustle of her cape.  _ So it looks like the plan is to box me in, _ she mused, running the stones through her hand.  _ The elf’s good enough to fire at long range, and the halfling’s fast enough to catch her while she was dodging his Magic Missiles, so going back or left is out. _ She cast a glance ahead, towards the abjurer and the lizard.  _ The abjurer would box me in, and the lizard would make sure that I stayed put _ . Frustrated, she pursed her lips and let out a silent groan.  _ So going forward or right is  _ also  _ out. _ Looking farther out forward, she saw nothing but rooftops of various lengths and areas. _ But the further they go, the closer that they get to the dumpsters and junkyards.  _ Better than the developed areas behind her-she’d have more room to navigate, but she’d be sure to get caught.

She sat like that for a few minutes, weighing the risks and the options, twisting the rocks in her hands, trying to swallow the lump of frustration in her throat. The more that she sat there considering her options, the less time that she had to move-and the less patience that the officers down below would have. 

 

_ At least there’s a breeze _ , she thought. Despite the still day, she was high enough to have the wind run by her, shifting her hair and her clothes.  _ It helps me look cool in the ca- _ . 

Realization hitting her lock a rock, she stopped mid-thought, her mind running with an idea, her hands racing around the stones. Without warning, they stopped, and she sprung up, rejuvenated with her new idea. Shrugging the cape off of her shoulders, she dipped deep into her pocket, searching intensely.  _ I could have sworn that I had a rope in here… _

 

She switched her concentration to the elf behind her. It looked like he had taken up rotations around a city block, moving in a line. The halfling was directly behind Sloane’s building, poised in a defensive position. Looking ahead, she caught the abjurer not even half a block away, the lizard directly next to her. Both of them were poised in front of the building that was two buildings away from Sloane _. Not actively attacking, but not_ not _attacking either_ , Sloane groused. _At least the caster hasn’t put up the wall yet._ Digging up the bottle from her pocket and gripping the cape in her other hand, she made her way towards the front of the building, concentrating on the elf’s rotations around the building. The breeze was right behind her, pushing her hair into her eyes and fluttering the cape forward. She looked behind her at the elf, who was finishing easily his tenth or twelfth revolution, and almost about to turn the corner away from Sloane. She held her breath as she counted his steps. _This would be walkaround thirteen,_ she counted quietly as she listened for the hiss of air escaping the bottle. As soon as she heard it, she pushed the rest of the cork out with her thumb and slid it over the bottle. He was almost 500 feet to the corner of the block, and he would turn left, away from her.

Sloane took a breath in and let her thumb off of the bottle, flinging the cape in the direction that it was pointed. All she needed was a little gust…

 

The tornado quickly caught the cape, and the eye of the elf. Before Sloane could really process it, a Magic Missile flew right past it, and then another, then another. His eye on the target, he forged forward, casting with ease and directness. Sloane heard something break in the distance, and turned to see a large prismatic wall, more than a mile across, burst out from the ground, the abjurer crouched on the ground mid-cast. The lizard had taken a defensive stance around them, in the event that the Raven would try and break their concentration.

 

And the halfling was on the other side of the wall.

 

Sloane eyed the distance between the building that she was on top of and the wall that was right next to it. While she was no caster, she was familiar with the spell, and knew that going through the wall would leave her with some damage. Twisting the ring on her finger, she sprung down, then bounded over the wall and past the halfling, running straight as she hit the ground. She could hear the elf call out, “ _ Hurley _ !” to the halfling, surprisingly more clerical than Sloane would expect from someone just outsmarted by a silk cape. She was after Sloane before he could even open his mouth, and she swore that she could feel the halfling’s- _ Hurley’s _ -feet hitting the dirt with every step. 

  
  


_ So  _ that’s  _ her name,  _ she thought with a pang of excitement _. _

  
  


Sloane knew that she should have been tired already, but all that she felt was the pulse of adrenaline running through her body, and the sting of exhilaration pushing her aching legs forward. She had spent the past few months planning, searching, calculating, all to make this meeting work out. She had run through what she felt was every possible variation of this evening, with all possible scenarios-the building crumbling beneath her, the prismatic wall breaking down early, her getting a muscle cramp-and did everything that she could to cut out any minor variable that could throw this off.  _ There’s no way that this can screw up!  _ she mused gleefully. ... _ Unless she arrests me. _ She shook her head, jarring the thought out.  _ We’ll work around that.  _

Left, right, left, left. Sloane didn’t even have to think about where she was heading, she had visited so many times before. She turned around one last corner and walked right into a dead end. Set by a brick building easily 60 feet high, the little abandoned corner was a half circle of flat dirt, covered in junk, iron, and refuse around the edges.  _ Perfect for a little rendezvous,  _ she thought, looking over the area. To the average passerby, it looked dry and dead, but Sloane knew that anyone still enough could see small flowers climbing through the cracks in the ground. 

She couldn’t resist-sinking to her knees, she scrutinized the little white flowers poking through.  _ It’s probably because of the building’s shadow,  _ she thought excitedly.  _ I bet it creates enough condensation for them to grow.  _

_Oh my God, what am I doing._ She stood up and started dusting the dirt off of her pants, a flush rising up her face from catching herself in the moment. _She’ll be here any second._ The chase hadn’t treated her well, with dust hanging on her now loose clothes. _I’m probably red from running all over the place_ , _too,_ she sulked. Grabbing her mask, she made as if to take it off, then pushed it back on again. _Wait, no. I should leave it on. She probably hasn’t seen me without it._ Satisfied, she resumed her position against the wall, and then resumed attempting to remove the mask. _Yeah, she’ll be real happy to see someone waiting for her in a dead end wearing an animal mask. Girls_ _love_ _that._ She tugged on the ribbons in the back, only to realize that they were stuck. 

**_Goddamnit_ ** _. _

Heart pounding, she slid it up her face to the top of her head, still working with the ribbons.  _ How about, I just… _

 

“Sloane Ramirez!”

 

Sloane froze mid tangle and tilted her head in the direction that the voice came from. The cop-Hurley-stood right behind her, feet planted firmly on the ground, hands held in a bare block position. Even caught with her fingers mid-tangle, just  _ looking  _ at her made Sloane feel enthused. She had just run-how far?- into an abandoned part of town, right after a twenty minute standoff,  _ by herself _ after her team had gotten isolated from her, and she wasn’t even flagging. 

 

She would be  _ perfect.  _

 

Sloane gave the cop- _ Hurley!- _ a casual smile and swiped the mask from the top of her head. “Took you long enough,” she in a tone that she hoped sounded leisurely. “To get here. Running, I mean. Running fast.” Folding her arms behind her, she cast a teasing glance at her. “Feels like I’ve been here for  _ hours.” _

 

The halfling kept her stance. “Sloane Ramirez, you’re under arrest for petit theft and resisting an officer. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”

 

_... _ So not how she  _ exactly  _ imagined things going. Sloane had envisioned this with a bit more of Hurley dropping her stance and saying something like,  _ From the kindness of my heart, I will hear you out. Sing me your cares, you muscular goddess, _ and then they’d sit and talk about Sloane’s plan for a while, right between the flowers in the cracks on the ground, with the breeze blowing through their hair.

 

Still, Sloane didn’t want to give up just yet. For months after each of their encounters, Sloane could close her eyes and still see Hurley’s attacking stance, her fluid movements, the gleam in her eye, and know that she was giving chase for as much the thrill of the chase as for the duties of her job. Even now, with Hurley right in front of her, Sloane could see the shake of her shoulders, measure the seconds between her breaths, watch her eyes follow Sloane’s movements. _She isn’t tired at all,_ she realized with a jolt of euphoria. She was as excited for this meeting as Sloane herself was.

Taking one last nervous breath, she looked Hurley in the eyes and gave her her most devil-may-care smile. 

“...actually, I was wondering if I could make you an offer.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> omg im so tired but im so excited. I'll post more here later, but know that this is my first completed work in like, two years, know that I did this as part of participation in Hurloane week (on hurloaneweek dot tumblr dot com), know that the Silent Stones are borrowed from Cloudgatherer on enworld.org, and know that I'm always looking for critique! If you think that there's something that I can work on, don't be afraid to mention it! Thanks for reading!


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